You've Got A Friend
by Tigerlily06
Summary: Takes place after the ep where Janice Licalsi dumps John Kelly. First part in a series.
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: NYPD:Blue  
Character: John Kelly  
Title: You've Got A Friend  
Prompt: Friends  
Word Count: roughly 300  
Rating: PG 13  
Summary: Comfort comes from the most unlikely sources. This one is for **alamogirl 80**. I hope she gets a kick out of it.  
Author's Notes: Don't own John. Just like bringing him out every so often. Not making any money off of John, so don't sue me this week.

John watched Janice walked out of the bar and his heart. He knew as soon as he offered her the chance to save her career that their relationship was over.

He just wished that it didn't hurt so much.

&/&/&

Mel watched John turn his attention back to his drink. She got a brief glimpse of the pain etched on his face and felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

She took a few shakey breaths amazed that someone she had only met a few weeks before could have such an effect on her. She had promised herself not to become interested in another man on the rebound, but she couldn't really help herself with John Kelly.

He was not hard on the eyes. He had boyishly handsome features topped with reddish gold hair that she longed to run her fingers through, but it was his eyes that drew her to him. They were very expressive as well as being the most incredible shade of blue Mel had ever seen.

He was trouble with a capital "T".

&/&/&

John looked up when he sensed someone was watching him. He forced a smile. "Evening, Mel."

"Need a touch up, John?" Mel inquired with a smile of her own.

John thought about it for a few seconds and then with a deft flick of his wrist he knocked back the rest of his drink. His little voice was telling him getting drunk wouldn't solve anything, but he ignored it and held out his glass for a refill.

Mel pour two fingers of good single malt Scotch in it and then poured herself one as well.

"I thought Pat didn't approve of his bartenders drinking on the job?" John inquired gently.

"I like to live dangerously," Mel quipped with a dry laugh.

John held up his glass and toasted, "Here's to living dangerously."

Mel tapped her glass against his and said, "Cheers!"

&/&/&

Mel led the way upstairs to her apartment above the bar. She fumbled with her keys in the dim light of the hallway. After a few false tries, she found the right one and unlocked the door. She didn't open it, but rested her hand on the doorknob.

"Are you sure?" she asked John, who leaned on the wall across from her apartment.

"Are you?" he countered. He wasn't drunk just comfortable numb.

Mel didn't answer. She opened the door instead. John followed her inside and locked the door behind him.

&/&/&

Mel had offered John a compassionate ear. They sat on her Goodwill couch drinking her best Scotch. Between sips, he poured out the sordid tale of his and Janice's failed relationship.

Mel listened. She held him when he broke down and cried. She offered him her bed when the need for sleep became too great for him to fight anymore.

They slept curled around one another like lovers that they had yet to become.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

John woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He could tell he wasn't in his bed because his sheets were cotton and not flannel.

The sound of a woman softly singing could be heard outside the bedroom. He recognized the song as one his mother used to sing when he was a little boy.

A wave of nostalgia swept over him leaving him disoriented.

For a moment he longed for the days of his boyhood when his mother still remember who she was and his father was still alive.

He choked back a remorseful sigh.

Life was so much easier then.

Right was right. Wrong was wrong. Black was black. White was white.

He slowly opened his eyes, but instantly regretted that decision as bile rose in his throat as his stomach made its displeasure known. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently cursed himself for getting drunk on an empty stomach.

Calling on his stubborn Irish will, John opened his eyes again and took in his surroundings. He was in a small bedroom tastefully decorated in nautical fashion.

He glanced down and was glad to find that he was wearing his boxers and t-shirt. He had had a tiny moment of fear upon waking in this strange bed that he had gone and done something stupid because Janice had broken his heart.

He groaned as he pulled himself up to lean against the headboard. It echoed in his head causing the unnoticed nagging pain to escalate a notch.

The singing stopped.

Mel had heard movement in the bedroom. She stopped singing and went to check on John. He had really been shattered the night before and she didn't want him running away before they could talk.

She opened the door and leaned on the doorframe. She studied John as he took in his surroundings his brow creased in painful concentration.

She walked over to the bed and sat down. She leaned close and whispered, "Morning, Sparky," in his ear.

"Mel?" John hazarded. It came out sounding like a croak then a question.

"Yes," Mel replied with a smile. She pushed some stray locks of hair off his forehead and gave him a gentle peck there.

"Wha… what happened?"

"You really tied one on, honey," she explained.

"Well, that explains the run down feeling," he tried to quip.

"Apparently, that wicked sense of humor of yours can't be killed by large quantities of 98 proof alcohol," Mel teased.

"I'm of good Irish stock," the redhead retorted. "Andy swears I'll be cracking wise as I tumble through the gates of Hell."

"Of that I have no doubt."

"Did we?" he asked the question that was pressing on his mind.

"No," Mel answered. "You were too far gone."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad we didn't. I need a friend more than I do a lover, if that makes any sense."

"I will always be your friend," Mel vowed and saw that it gave John the relief he needed. "Now, how do you feel about breakfast?"

TBC…


End file.
